


Jet Fuel

by typhlos1on



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Cunnilingus, Drug Use, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Nudity, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6444658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typhlos1on/pseuds/typhlos1on
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nora was back in Sanctuary after a long trip across the Commonwealth. Hancock was returning from Goodneighbor with some supplies but he had left his jacket behind in Sanctuary. He had asked Anne Hargraves to mend it for him while he was gone. Anne had some work to do at WRVR and wouldn't be able to return it to him in person, so Anne leaves it in Nora's care. Nora heads back to her place and takes a bath. Hancock returns to Sanctuary with the supplies and figures out his jacket's with Nora. Nora's entranced by the jacket and Hancock sees some...things. Some awkward interactions later, sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jet Fuel

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea after seeing the size of a Jet canister in use during the side quest Dependency. (They're huge!)
> 
> edit: a thousand hits what the fuck y'all

"Another win for the Minutemen," Preston beamed.  "Good work, General.  I will let you know if any other settlements that need our help.  I haven't heard anything on the radio or from the Castle.”

"Thank you, Preston," Nora said.  "I'll be heading out tomorrow morning.  If anything else comes up let me know.”  Preston nodded and turned back to the sentry tower where he was posted.  Nora let out a long sigh of relief as soon as he was out of earshot.  It seemed like every time she went back to Preston to report her successes, there were three more settlements that needed help.  She loved helping out her fellow citizens of the Commonwealth, but one woman can only do so much. 

She needed some downtime, anyway.  The day before, she had helped the settlers at Sommerville Place plant some new crops and lay pipes down for more wells.  She had been traveling back to Sanctuary for the better part of last night, encountering some bloatflies.  She was hit by one of their maggots while reloading her pistol. 

She wanted nothing more than to soak and scrub the dirt, sweat, and the dried bile off her body.  She managed to score some really nice soap, shampoo, and conditioner from Vault 81 on her return trip.  She was mostly excited it would leave her _figuratively_ glowing after her bath, instead of the stuff she usually finds.  The sun was somewhere between noon and sundown, Nora checked her Pip-Boy and it was 3:22.  Nora smiled as she looked at the settlement she had hobbled together with the help of her new friends.  The newest additions were the vendor stalls along the street, to her left and right were six happy sales clerks selling and trading goods.  She could now get supplies from her front yard, unless the vendors did not have what she needed.  She usually had Hancock or MacCready get her special ammo. 

Anne Hargraves flagged down Nora as she was walking by.  Nora smiled and walked up to her storefront.  “Hey Anne, how’s the radio station doing?”

“Wonderfully!  In fact, we’re starting to record a radio adaptation of Shakespeare's _King Lear_ this evening!”

“That’s great!  You gotta tell me when it’s airing!”

“Thank you!  It should be sometime in the next week!  I have a favor to ask you, however,” She placed Hancock’s signature red frock, perfectly folded, onto the top of the stall.  “Hancock asked me to clean and mend his jacket.  I am afraid I could not clean it as he asked.  I am unsure if the detergent we have is suitable for it and I did not want to risk damaging the fabric any further.  But I did re-attach the sleeve and buttons he pulled off.  Could you give it to him?  I will be at the radio station by the time he gets back from…  Whatever he’s doing.”

“Sure thing!  He is checking up on Goodneighbor and trying to find some supplies and ammo for me.  Just leave a note for him.  I’m going to be in my quarters this evening.”  Nora wiped her hands against the legs of her vault suit before picking the jacket up.  “Break a leg, Anne!”  She chuckled as they part ways. 

Nora walked inside the shack she had built for herself, a little further away from the homes she and the other residents of sanctuary restored.  No one blamed her for not wanting to live in the house her family had before the war.  Her quarters were simple; there were only three rooms inside.  The only outside door led to the communal meeting space.  A long oblong table with eight chairs at its perimeter took up the majority of the room.  In the far northeast corner, there was a desk covered in documents, maps, and assorted junk.  Her personal bedroom was behind a door found in the southwest corner.  Her queen-sized bed lay east to west in the very southwest corner of the shack; her dresser is to the right of the arch to the en suite bathroom. 

She makes a beeline for her tub, forgetting to close the door behind her.  She placed Hancock’s jacket on the corner of her bed as she undoes the latches on her pip-boy.  She dropped it on top of her dresser.  She slung her bag off her shoulder and dug out her toiletries.  She ungracefully let her bag fall where it did.  She detached her armor and it fell to the floor with a thud.  She unzipped and hopped out of her vault suit in one motion. 

She stopped the tub, turned on the water, and let it fill up as she stepped into the water.  She turned off the water flow and scrubbed the soot and slime from her skin.  She lathered her hair with shampoo, massaging her scalp.  She then worked the conditioner through her mangled hair and let it set for a few minutes.  She could not remember the last time she used actual shampoo and conditioner- normally she is forced to use the bar soap.  She reveled in the fact she could freely run her fingers through her hair again.  She held her breath and shut her eyes as she sank down into the tub, completely submerging herself.  Her face was hot.  She felt her hair float above her.  The air felt so cold against her skin as she pulled herself back up, resting her head on the edge of the tub.  She sighed in ecstasy.  She let herself lie there until the water temperature was uncomfortable. 

“Hot damn, I needed that.”  She sighed, pulling the stopper from the bathtub drain.  Her bath water had turned from clear to a murky grey.  She tried not to think of what she had been in contact with since her last bath.  She pulled herself out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the towel hook to her right.  She dried off and tied it around herself as she walked inside her bedroom. 

Hancock's jacket lay on the bed, exactly where she had left it.  Rumor was that he damaged it in a fight with a super mutant hound.  He spent 30 minutes looking for the buttons after he bashed in its skull with the butt of his shotgun.  Nora smirked at the thought of him being so worked up over something so trivial.  However, she realized she would do the same thing if something had happened to her wedding ring. 

The jacket’s red looked so starkly different compared to the white of her sheets.  It was almost as it was speaking to her to examine it.  Hancock did not seem so crazy after all.  She walked towards her bed.  Its color reminded her of the roses that Codsworth and she grew in her garden pre-war.  The red on Shaun's crib's rockets.  The red of her favorite shade of lipstick. 

She absentmindedly let her towel fall.  She pushed her palms against it.  It was velvet, and she was genuinely surprised by how soft it still was.  For being nearly five hundred years old, it was still in good shape.  There was God only knows who's and what is blood splattered all over it, torn seams, and worn patches.  "Hancock definitely has done a number on it though,” she laughed to herself. 

She picked it up to look at the details more closely, gingerly unfolding it.  Everything was made by hand.  She pulled it closer to her face.  Its craftwork was beautiful.  A mix of unmistakable smells suddenly poured into her mind.  Jet, cigarettes, whiskey, sweat, blood.  Old buildings.  Testosterone.  Her thoughts turned red again.  Jet.  The furniture in the Memory Lounge.  Irma’s dress.  Magnolia's dress.  The Third Rail's VIP room.  The neon sign of the Hotel Rexford.  Hancock addressing the people of Goodneighbor on the balcony. 

Her eyelids fluttered. 

She gripped the jacket closer to her body and inhaled more deeply.  She realized she dropped her towel when the jacket was brushing up against her bare breasts.  Her nipples had instantly become taut.  She hugged it closer, feeling her arms pressing against her chest.  Her thoughts drifted to him.  His black eyes.  His rough, gnarled skin.  His deep, scratchy voice.  She shivered thinking of his hands brushing against hers. 

As she was manhandling the frock, something had fallen out of the inner pocket.  It landed on Nora's bare foot, snapping her back into reality. 

It was one of his special jet inhalers.  “God fucking damn it,” she mumbled, picking it up and placing it back where it belonged.  Her attention was brought back to his coat.  “Would it look as good on me as it does on him?”  She put it on.  She felt goofy wearing it, like she was wearing the Silver Shroud costume Kent had made her.  She tried buttoning it, but was made for someone without breasts.  “Actual John Hancock was a tiny man…”  She concluded after failing to button any button. 

She gave herself a look-over.  Nora had to admit it looked much better on him.  She plopped down on the center of her bed and stared at the ceiling.  She ran her fingers through her hair and wished it were not her doing it.  Her thoughts went back to her favorite ghoul. 

Come to think of it, she has not seen him without his jacket, ever.  Wherever he was, he was probably still wearing his usual attire; his tricorn hat, blue vest, frilly shirt, boots, and that flag belt.  She almost wished he damaged his shirt and vest as well just so she could see him walking around Sanctuary in just his pants, boots, and belt.  Working a sweat in the fields.  Hauling armloads of supplies.  Wiping his sweat off him with his belt. 

That belt.  That damned belt.  One gentle tug and his pants would fall off.  She just knew the guy went around commando.  It dawned on her that she had never seen a non-feral ghoul naked _.  How would Hancock...  look?_   She gulped.  _He would be uncut.  There were not any churches in the Commonwealth.  He would have to be thick.  And definitely long.  He would at least be 8 inches?  Maybe he would have a slight curve?  No.  He would be veiny though.  And she would be able to feel his veins under his ghoulish skin._ She shivered. 

He would have to be a good lover.  He would be able to pick her up and pin her against the wall, fucking her while standing up.  He would insist on keeping the hat on.  Nah.  Not against the wall.  He would get way more enjoyment if he did not have to do all that work.  He would pin her against the desk.  Face down, ass up, arms behind her.  One of his hands on her head while the other one was holding her wrists.  The Neighborhood Watch would be glued to them.  He would be so rough with her that she would have bruises on her hips from where the desk was being shoved against her…

Her heart was pounding.  Her slit was just the slightest bit wet.  Was she actually making herself horny?  She bit her bottom lip.  It was not her, it was him.  _He_ was doing this to her.  She hesitated letting her fingers wander.  She quickly gave in as they found their way to the hood of her clit.  She imagined they were his, slowly teasing her, circling and rubbing her gently, and whispering sweet nothings into her ear.  She gained a good pace as she was becoming more aroused.  She slid her fingers between her lower lips, then up and down her slit a few times.  She got them to just the right amount of wetness before bringing them back up and rubbing and circling her exposed clit with them.  Her legs twitched as she touched her bare clit.  She could feel a redness in her cheeks. 

_Dear God, yes._

A strange feeling washed over her when she realized it has been over two hundred years since she would last cum.  She worked a little harder and faster.  She felt her inner walls ache for insertion of something.  She imagined his cock sliding inside of her as she slipped her index and pointer fingers into her folds.  Her fingers were not a substitution for his throbbing cock, but that did not deter her.  She envisioned him pinning her legs over her head as he fucked her mercilessly.  She started slamming her fingers into herself. 

“Fuck…”  She moaned, weakly.  Her thoughts were rapidly shifting.  Hancock would cum across her face and chest and then immediately flip her over.  He would pull her back by her hair as he fucked her from behind.  Some poor guard would be leaning in the corner, unable to stand because his knees buckled under him.  He would be staring at her face and tits covered in Hancock’s cum and he would be beating himself raw, wanting either a turn or to be Hancock.  ‘Of the people, for the people…’

"Fuck.  Ahhhh...."

Hancock came back to Sanctuary with some supplies from Goodneighbor.  He felt rather naked without his jacket, but it was nice not having that extra layer on him while walking back.  The sun seemed unrelenting today.  He dropped a bag of junk beside Nora’s workbench.  He went to find Anne to get his jacket back, but instead found a note pinned to her stall.  “Nora’s got your jacket, she’s inside her quarters.  -Anne.”  Hancock shrugged and grabbed haul from the workbench. 

“Might as well just give it to her since she’s back here,” he groaned. 

He was uncomfortable.  He was hot and tired, and he was really jonesing for that Jet he had made earlier in the week.  He guessed accidentally left it inside his frock.  He hoped that Anne did not take it, but if she did not he knew Nora would not use it.  He made it to her front door and knocked.  No answer.  “Hey Nora, I’ve your supplies.”  No answer.  _Weird, maybe she was asleep?_ He opened the front door slowly, not to scare her awake if she was.  He tiptoed into the de facto war room.  She had no issue with people in this room without her permission; it is her bedroom she got wiggy over.  He doesn’t blame her.  _She had enough on her plate as it was, running all those settlements, being the General of the Minutemen, helping the Railroad and the Brotherhood along with helping out Nick at the Detective Agency AND finding her son?  Fuck, the woman’s gotta get some decent sleep._

He knew she just came back from a rather long trip.  He set the bag of supplies down on her map of the Commonwealth so she would be able to find it quickly.  Out of spite, he placed it on top of the Prydwyn’s location.  He turns to her bedroom door, and saw that it was open.  He tiptoes across the room to close it for her.  He is not going to wake her up just so he can get high.  He knew his jacket was safe with her.  His hand was hovering above the doorknob when a muffled, guttural moan erupted from the other side.  _What in the fuck was that?_

He is hesitant to look inside.  _But why is her door open?  Is Nora ok?_

Then he swore he heard his name.

_At least part of it.  It was her voice, definitely.  It might be a Jet flashback or something.  Was she sleep talking?_

"Nora?”  Nothing.  “Nora?  Are you ok?”  Silence.  An exasperated "Fuck!”  Echoed from the other side of the door about ten seconds later.

_Hopefully, this was unrelated.  Possibly.  It was definitely possibly unrelated, hopefully._

Nora was too consumed in her own thoughts to hear Hancock calling for her.  Her eyes were tightly shut; her mind was picturing her pushing him onto a chair, wearing nothing but his hat.  She was riding his cock as far as it would go inside her.  He was slapping her ass and sinking his teeth into her shoulders, telling her how good she felt.  Her hand was not doing a good job, but it was busy, working overtime. 

Hancock did not want to intrude but he was worried she might have been hurt.  That or she was going to kill him for waking her up.  He peered around the door corner just to see if she was ok.  He could not have anticipated what was behind her bedroom door.  He saw her sprawled out on her bed, naked. 

_No, she was not naked._

_She was wearing his jacket._

_She was pleasuring herself while wearing his jacket._

Her front was completely exposed.  Her fingers moved inside and out of her quickly.  She was using her hips to slide herself as far as she can go.  Her breasts bounced as her knuckles hit her labia.  Her occasional sharp breaths and soft moans broke the silence. 

He froze, transfixed on her fingers.  All the way in.  All the way out.  Disappearing in her wet, pink folds.  He started to feel his pulse rise _._

_He should close the door.  This was wrong of him to stand here and watch her without her knowledge or permission._

He slowly turned the knob and started to pull the door shut. 

"H-Hancock..." she stammered. 

 _Oh fuck.  Did she see him?_  He froze again.  _Fuck_ , he panicked.  _He would never be able to look her in the eye again.  She was going to kill him._ “H-Hancock, p-please…”

_No.  No, she was thinking about him._

_She was thinking about fucking him while she was wearing his clothes._

_Oh _fuck.__

His cock was instantly twitching and throbbing.  He bit his lip and wave of guilt washed over him _.  But, _ **fuck**__...  _if this wasn't the hottest thing he's ever seen anyone do_.  He licked his lips as she continues to fuck her own hand.  He was aching.  He could feel his heartbeat in the veins of his cock. 

Her eyes were closed.  She was panting in short, sharp breaths.  She sluggishly moaned his name again, switching back to her on the desk.  She liked that one a lot more, him mostly having control.  She told him how she wanted it and he obliged. 

He could not bear it.  He silently pushed the door open.  He was fighting the urge to palm himself through his pants.  He loosened his belt to ease his growing discomfort. 

"Hancock, fuck me, ahhh, harder.”  Her pace hastened.  Her back was arching, her toes were beginning to point.  She was close.  Her eyes opened.  Her gaze snapped to the figure standing in her doorway.

"HANCOCK!”  She screamed.  She snapped upright and scrambled to cover herself. 

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." He growled in a low, concise voice.  All she felt the burning in her cheeks.  Her eyes hit the floor.  He took a step inside the room. 

"Stop.”  She commanded.  He froze.  She sighed, swallowed her embarrassment, and slowly looked up.  She stopped midway when she noticed he was poorly hiding a raging hard-on.  _Oh fuck, do not stare_. 

She failed miserably and he reveled in it.  It was larger than she imagined. 

_Oh.  My God, Fuck.  Look away, look at his eyes!_

She turned scarlet as they made eye contact.  A huge grin spread across his face. 

"I heard my name.”  He explained in that low growl.  That voice was so...  raw.  A shiver shot down her spine; she swallowed, fighting it.  "And your door was open."

"So uh, how long have you, uh, been standing there?”  She struggled to find words. 

"Long enough." He shifted in his pants.  She stared again. 

"I uh, fuck, uh," she closed her eyes and fumbled, "suppose you're looking for your jacket?" she met his gaze. 

"Nah," he coyly played, “my jet.”  She saw him twitch through his pants.  _Christ._

"Oh uh...”  She fumbled in his pocket for his jet and reached out to hand it to him.  She tried to keep herself covered.  He took a step forward, and then paused.  He reached out behind him to close the door and continued to advance to her bedside.  His boots echoed as they hit the floor.  He stared at her outstretched hand.  It was sticky and wet.  Her two fingers were beginning to prune from being inside her for so long.  She followed his gaze after he had licked his bottom lip.  A string of her fluid was strung between her index and middle finger.  _Oh my God_.  She gasps, and dropped the jet.  "Shit, I'm sorry I..."

"Let me get that.”  They both bent down to pick it up.  She grabbed it first, but Hancock fell to his knees beside her bed.  Her hand was inches away from his face.  They stared in each other's eyes.  She did not want to be the one to break eye contact.  She bit her bottom lip and tried her damnedest not to think about his manhood.  She looked down.  Shit!

Instantly, he grabbed her wrist with his left hand and his jet with his right hand.  He placed the jet on the floor beside him as he held tightly.  He began to lick her fingers clean, starting at the tips, gently.  She jerked at the sensation, and he stopped.  He closed his mouth.  Not saying a word, she took a few breaths.  His hand was still holding hers.  She was trembling.  He did not pull away.  She regained her composure and forced his mouth open with her soiled fingers.  He responded by lightly biting them, then he swirled his tongue around her index and middle fingers.  He pulled her closer to him with both hands.  Her taste was fucking incredible.  His tongue snaked its way between her fingers.  He was restraining himself from biting her knuckles as he lapped the webbing between her fingers.  She was holding her breath, shaking.  He pulled away from her as she exhaled.  His grip loosened.  He said nothing as he licked his lips.  He looked up at her, and their eyes met again.  She swallowed.  She swung her legs over the side of the bed.  She tilted back and spread her legs, exposing her body to him again.  He refused to look away from her eyes.  He could smell that she was dripping wet.  He could see she was aching for his touch.  His mouth was dry.  His cock was aching so badly, he wanted to fuck her as hard as she was wanting him to earlier _.  But all in due time.  He wanted to have a little fun first._

"Weren’t you were looking for your Jet?”  She asked. 

"I am.”  He picked it up off the floor, and brought it to his mouth.  He licked the top of the canister with as much care as he did with her fingers.  He pulled it from his lips and playfully teased her inner thigh with the edge of the jet inhaler.  All of this without breaking eye contact with her.  She quivered as it inched towards her slit.  "Have you seen it?" he growled.  She had never heard his voice so low before.  It was raw, it was real, and she could tell he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. 

"N-no, I haven't." she stammered.  She might as well play along.  He skirted her clit with it.  Her eyelids fluttered.  Hancock smirked. 

"You sure?  I could have sworn you had it just a second ago.”  He slid it against her slit.  Nora gasped.  She restrained herself from bucking her hips. 

"I'm sure.”  He managed to part her inner folds and find her opening with a few twists of his wrists.  His eyelids lowered. 

"May I look for it?  It could have fallen in some nook or cranny around here.”  He circled her opening but he did not slide it inside her just yet.  "Don't want to invade your privacy, you know.”

"Yes," she huffed.  "Hancock, by all means, please do.”  He slowly inserted the glass portion of the canister inside her.  He gained pace quickly.  She fought to keep her legs spread.  "Uhnn!" She threw her head back and thrusted her hips forward.  He shifted his attention to her body.  He leaned forward, still pushing and pulling the container inside of her, and gripped the inside of her right thigh with his left hand.  He was so close to her that she could feel his breath hitting her pussy.  It drove her crazy.  He goes as fast as he can when he saw her clit twitch and swell.  He was looking for something, but he had not quite found it yet.  His thrusts became slower, harder, and deeper.  His fingers tapped her inner lips and became wetter each time they meet her body.  He began to hook his motions upward.  Her hands gripped the edge of her mattress.  He was close.  He knew it, but she did not know what he was doing.  He slowed down, increased his arch, and slowly moved the canister’s edge towards her opening.  She leaned forward to try to figure out whatever he was trying to accomplish.  “You find that jet yet?”  She panted. 

“Not yet, I think-” her legs and breath spasmed as she lets out an involuntary “uh!”  He stopped and looked up at her with the biggest grin on his face.  “I think I found it.”  She was bewildered.  He found something she or her husband had apparently never found.

“Hancock wha- uuuHHH!”  He did not let her finish.  He did not hold back.  Her legs independently started shaking as he relentlessly jabbed her g-spot.  She could not contain her squeals and moans.  He was toying with her and he loved every second of it.  Her arms could not support her and her back fell on the bed on the bed.  She reached out in vain to try to hold onto something.  She ended up clawing at her own thighs.  He tightened his grip on hers.  His improvised dildo was meeting some resistance.  _It is time he slowed things down_.  He angled the jet to where the very corner of the glass was hitting her insides but the mouthpiece was on the outside.  He draws in as close as he could, exhaling deeply.  His mouth encapsulated the mouthpiece.  He draws the jet out while it was hitting the center of her g-spot.

It instantly cooled her.  She screamed in ecstasy.  He emptied it with one hit.  He held his breath as he slid the canister out of her.  He exhaled all of the smoke through his nostrils so everything hit her clit, numbing her.  Her hands grabbed the back of his head; he feels her fingernails dig into his scalp.  She knocked off his hat.  He sucked the inhaler clean and threw it across the room; his hat was thrown in a separate direction. 

It kicked in.  The seconds seemed like minutes.  He knows it will not last forever so he wasted no time.  He wrapped his arms behind her legs and pulled her in closer to his face.  He licked and sucked her lips clean of his handiwork.  He started on the outside, and then worked in.  His tongue snaked its way inside her cunt.  She bucked her hips up towards his mouth.  She had lost the ability to speak, the only thing that came out of her mouth were labored syllables.  He would not be able to understand her anyway.  Her hands found their way behind his head again.  She was trying her best to hold him in place.  Her grip tightened and loosened depending on where his tongue was prodding.  He freed his right hand and replaced his tongue with his fingers.  He hooked them and rubbed her spot back to its normal temperature as he sucked her clit.  He could feel her pulse between his lips.  She latched onto him as tight as she could.  He was fighting the precum escaping from the tip of his dick.  Almost, he thought, as he felt her walls grow tighter around his fingers. 

The Jet was beginning to wear off.  He sucked her as hard as he could as time went back to normal.  All she could do was moan as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue again.  His freed hand started undoing his belt; his left arm unhooked itself from her.  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.  She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming, almost breaking the skin.  He broke away from her, fighting her hands but leaving a string of the mixture of her cum and his spit.  He forced himself to stand up.  He shoved his pants down to his ankles.  He leaned over and pinned Nora down on the bed by her shoulders.  He slid his hot, dripping cock against her slit and onto her stomach.  He rocked his hips back and forth, dragging his member across her. 

“Tell me what you want and where you want it.”  He growled.  Nora forced her eyes to focus; his black eyes were staring directly at her.  He continued to rock his hips on top of her.  Her stomach was sticky from precum.  _God.  Fuck.  Fuck_.  She struggled think of something. 

“Y-you inside me.”  She spluttered. 

“What?”  His grip on her shoulders tightened.  “I couldn’t hear you.”

“S-stop fucking...  teasing...”

“You gotta do better than that, babe.”  He loved seeing her fight to think the words.  She forced herself into a moment of clarity. 

“FUCK ME.  I DON’T CARE.  JUST FUCK ME.”

He immediately pulled her to the edge of the bed by her waist.  Then he grabbed her by the thighs and pulled them apart.  He gave her exactly what she wanted.  He took a step back and sunk his manhood into her warm, wet cunt with an angry lunge.  God, he thought, it felt so fucking good around him.  He immediately began slamming into her; hard, fast, and unrelenting.  She screamed with delight.  She lost more and more of her composure every time he hit her cervix.  The friction was driving both of them insane.  His hands migrated back up to her waist and began to dig his fingernails into her skin.  She does not feel anything except his cock driving her to insanity.  She was writhing in pleasure.  Her legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in closer.  Her hands tightly gripped his wrists.  She could not do anything except let him have his way with her.  It was almost as if his cock had paralyzed her.  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.  He saw this and he went feral.  Another guttural moan escaped her mouth.  This one sounded like her soul was leaving her body.  _Fuck._ He got as rough could get.  Sweat was dripping off him; he was panting as hard as he was fucking her.  She, on the other hand, was forgetting to breathe.  The only sounds she was capable of making at this point were involuntarily gasps of air.  Her back began to arch.  He could feel her toes pointing.  She was getting tighter as well.  He was close too. 

“Not yet… baby… almost….”  He slowed down and eased off so she could have control of her breathing again.  Her breaths are deep and labored.  Her eyes drifted back to the front and they refocused on his. 

“I-I-I’m” was all she could manage to say. 

“You ready?”  He gasps.  All she could do was nod.  He sharply inhales and regains his pace.  “UUUUHHH!”  “Fuck!”  Her walls tightened around him as he felt a rush of heat escape him.  It kept coming out of him.  They managed to cum at the same time.  He collapsed on top of her, his knees hitting the floor, his head resting on nape of her neck.  He spilled the last of his load inside her with a pathetic thrust.  She felt her blood pumping in her labia, her legs dangling off the side of the bed.  He wrapped his arms around her.  She cradled him in her arms.  They both lied there for a few minutes, catching their breaths.  He lightly kissed her collarbone.  She started laughing to herself. 

“What’s so funny, babe?”  He huffed. 

“You didn’t wear the fucking hat.”

“And?”  He lifted himself off the ground, standing up.  She swung herself onto the center of the bed. 

“I thought you would.”  Hancock had to chuckle with her.  He started undressing, kicking off his boots and pants with no regard to where they landed.  He unbuttoned his vest and shirt and let them fall where he was standing.  Nora sat up and carefully took off his jacket.  Hancock took it from her, inspecting the damage they have done. 

“Now it really needs cleaned,” he laughed. 

The inside was covered in both of their cum at this point.  Hancock let it fall onto the floor behind him.  He lied to the left of Nora; she rolled over and placed her head on his chest, her ear above his heart.  Her arm was draped over his waist.  She quickly drifted off to sleep using his heartbeat as her lullaby.  He placed a chaste on her forehead before wrapping his arms around her, idly stroking her hair with his right hand.  He fell asleep not too long after she did.  They slept soundly through the night, not letting go of each other until they awoke with the sunrise. 

**Author's Note:**

> YO if you see something wrong let me know, this is my first fan fiction I've ever written and I'm not that much of a writer.
> 
> (Fixed the typos and style errors, praise MSWord that I didn't have access to until today!)


End file.
